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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042612">bros before hoes</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagtag2020/pseuds/sagtag2020'>sagtag2020</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Canadian Universities</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Queen's University - Character, St. Patrick's Day, Western University - Character, Wilfrid Laurier University - Character, authors do not know what they are doing, we descended into weeb hell send help</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 09:47:48</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,915</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25042612</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/sagtag2020/pseuds/sagtag2020</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Sparks fly amidst the green chaos on Ezra Ave. during the St. Patrick's Day street party.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Western University/Queen's University</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>bros before hoes</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>We, the SagTag group, were inspired by the ongoings of the UWloo and UofT subreddits and thought that Western weeb community is also relevant. Thus, came this fic and multiple fanarts. Enjoy.</p><p>Wesley = Western chad, Quentin = Queen’s frat boi</p><p>PS: r/uwo mods nuked our work so we decided to expand our territory to AO3.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Saint Patrick’s Day lands on a windy, cloudy day in the middle of midterm season. The wind pierces through Wesley’s thin jacket, making him shiver. The road ahead is crowded with people, the scene resembling a packed can of sardines. It’s loud and hectic, as expected. </p><p>“Where’s your green, dude?” Huron asked, peering at Wesley with an excited look on his face. He seemed half to beyond fucked already.</p><p>“Green’s a shitty colour,” Wesley says half-heartedly. “This bandana’s enough.” </p><p>“If you’re not slurring you’re not fucked enough,” Huron grinned and slammed a bottle of vodka into Wesley’s chest. “Drink up, fucker.”</p><p>Wesley smirks and grips the bottle with a hand. He unscrews the cap lazily and flicks it to Huron. He lifts the bottle to his lips and chugs it all. It burns down his throat. </p><p>“It’s empty. The fuck, man?” </p><p>Huron squints at the bottle. “Ah shit, might’ve had more to drink than I thought. Sorry, dude.”</p><p>Wesley lifts an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to get fucked now?” </p><p>The screaming in the background gets louder as they inch closer to the mass of people clogging up the street. </p><p>Huron’s face scrunches up in confusion for a few seconds before it smoothes out into a self-contented smile. “I got a friend from ‘Loo who has a house on the street. Go there and get fucked. Maybe you’ll get lucky, yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah I’ll get lucky. You know I will.”</p><p>“Fuck dude!” Huron laughs and slaps his chest. It doesn’t hurt, but it makes Wesley smile more. “We don’t call you Ley for nothing, eh? Gonna get laid huh?” </p><p>Wesley doesn’t say anything in return. He just smirks. </p><p>Huron’s friend lives in a run-down bungalow close to the edge of Ezra. It takes a while to reach there by foot through the crowd of drunken uni students. Wesley shoulders his way into the house, where loud bass pierces his eardrums instead of screams. </p><p>It doesn’t take long for a girl to catch his eyes. </p><p>“Dude, I’ve seen that girl before.”</p><p>Huron looks at him. “Where would you have seen her?”</p><p>“On Tinder,” Wesley says. “That’s Laurie. I’ll fucking prove it to you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Huron laughs. “Go get ‘er bro.”</p><p>He nods his head at Huron and turns in Laurie’s direction. “Laurie! Swipe right, eh?”</p><p>Laurie turns her head towards Wesley, pushing her blonde hair back with one hand. There’s a spark of recognition in her eyes. “I know you… I think.” </p><p>“Yeah, it’s Wesley. But you can call me Wes,” he smirks. </p><p>Laurie rolls her eyes and laughs. She’s drunk, too. “Okay, Wes.”</p><p>“You wanna dance?”</p><p>“Ah, sorry, Quentin asked me first.” Laurie shrugs. She moves back and reveals another man. The man, Quentin, is shorter than him, not as ripped as he is. He almost looks feminine in a way; if Quentin were a girl, Wesley would totally bang him. </p><p>“Quentin, huh? Bet he can’t fuck you as well as I can.” </p><p>Quentin furrows his brow, “what the fuck, dude?”</p><p>“You a betting man?”</p><p>Quentin glares at him, but it isn’t intimidating at all. It reminds Wesley of an angry kitten. </p><p>“Betting on you to get the fuck outta here.”</p><p>Wesley laughs, “woah, chill out there frat boy. All that green sure suits your jealousy.”</p><p>“This dude’s an asshole,” Quentin scoffs, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.</p><p>There’s a wild look in Laurie’s eyes that shines through their drunken haze. </p><p>“Maybe you guys should just fuck each other instead of trying to fuck me,” Laurie says with a wicked smile on her face. </p><p>Wesley takes a moment to consider the statement and tries to keep his face as neutral as possible. He wasn’t going to be fazed by some stupid kiss. He took a glance at Quentin. The corners of his lips lifted. </p><p>A dark blush spreads across Quentin’s face. “K-kiss?” he stutters. “But I’m not gay…”</p><p>“And you think I am?”</p><p>Quentin couldn’t say anything.</p><p>“Bros before hoes, yeah?” Wesley said before leaning down and kissing Quentin.</p><p>* </p><p>Quentin makes a surprised noise at the back of his throat, leaning into Wesley’s touch, and grabs his varsity jacket to bring his body closer to his. It surprises him how much he’s enjoying this.</p><p>Wesley’s lips taste of sharp vodka—it burns his mouth. Even in Quentin’s drunken state, head hazy and spinning, he can still hear Laurie laughing in the background. At the forefront of his mind, he knows this isn’t something he should be doing in the middle of a house party swarming with people with the ability to ruin his life with a click of their thumb. </p><p>He knows, but he can’t seem to find it in him to care. </p><p>Quentin feels Wesley slide his hands over his chest. They stay there for a second before they pull at his hair. He doesn’t try to stop the moan that escapes him as Wesley’s fingernails scraped against his scalp. </p><p>“Quentin,” Wesley says, breathless yet still in charge. Quentin feels himself shiver against Wesley. </p><p>He takes a step back, away from the tense atmosphere. The random shouts and cheers in the background reminds him they’re both still in a public setting. </p><p>“Fuck, y’all really gonna fuck each other, huh?” Laurie giggles, covering her mouth with a hand. “Can I join?”</p><p>Wesley turns and looks at Laurie with a deadpan glare. “No.” He drags Quentin away to a quiet corner.</p><p>Quentin tugs at the sleeves of his sweater nervously. Should he? He takes a deep breath and takes a leap of faith. </p><p>“Should we…” he trails off, the liquid courage finally wearing off. </p><p>Wesley smiles that lazy grin that Quentin has grown to love in the short time they’ve met. “Netflix and Chill?” he winks inconspicuously. </p><p>Saint Patrick’s Day lands on a windy, cloudy day in the middle of midterm season. The wind pierces through Wesley’s thin jacket, making him shiver. The road ahead is crowded with people, the scene resembling a packed can of sardines. It’s loud and hectic, as expected. </p><p>“Where’s your green, dude?” Huron asked, peering at Wesley with an excited look on his face. He seemed half to beyond fucked already.</p><p>“Green’s a shitty colour,” Wesley says half-heartedly. “This bandana’s enough.” </p><p>“If you’re not slurring you’re not fucked enough,” Huron grinned and slammed a bottle of vodka into Wesley’s chest. “Drink up, fucker.”</p><p>Wesley smirks and grips the bottle with a hand. He unscrews the cap lazily and flicks it to Huron. He lifts the bottle to his lips and chugs it all. It burns down his throat. </p><p>“It’s empty. The fuck, man?” </p><p>Huron squints at the bottle. “Ah shit, might’ve had more to drink than I thought. Sorry, dude.”</p><p>Wesley lifts an eyebrow. “How am I supposed to get fucked now?” </p><p>The screaming in the background gets louder as they inch closer to the mass of people clogging up the street. </p><p>Huron’s face scrunches up in confusion for a few seconds before it smoothes out into a self-contented smile. “I got a friend from ‘Loo who has a house on the street. Go there and get fucked. Maybe you’ll get lucky, yeah?”</p><p>“Yeah I’ll get lucky. You know I will.”</p><p>“Fuck dude!” Huron laughs and slaps his chest. It doesn’t hurt, but it makes Wesley smile more. “We don’t call you Ley for nothing, eh? Gonna get laid huh?” </p><p>Wesley doesn’t say anything in return. He just smirks. </p><p>Huron’s friend lives in a run-down bungalow close to the edge of Ezra. It takes a while to reach there by foot through the crowd of drunken uni students. Wesley shoulders his way into the house, where loud bass pierces his eardrums instead of screams. </p><p>It doesn’t take long for a girl to catch his eyes. </p><p>“Dude, I’ve seen that girl before.”</p><p>Huron looks at him. “Where would you have seen her?”</p><p>“On Tinder,” Wesley says. “That’s Laurie. I’ll fucking prove it to you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Huron laughs. “Go get ‘er bro.”</p><p>He nods his head at Huron and turns in Laurie’s direction. “Laurie! Swipe right, eh?”</p><p>Laurie turns her head towards Wesley, pushing her blonde hair back with one hand. There’s a spark of recognition in her eyes. “I know you… I think.” </p><p>“Yeah, it’s Wesley. But you can call me Wes,” he smirks. </p><p>Laurie rolls her eyes and laughs. She’s drunk, too. “Okay, Wes.”</p><p>“You wanna dance?”</p><p>“Ah, sorry, Quentin asked me first.” Laurie shrugs. She moves back and reveals another man. The man, Quentin, is shorter than him, not as ripped as he is. He almost looks feminine in a way; if Quentin were a girl, Wesley would totally bang him. </p><p>“Quentin, huh? Bet he can’t fuck you as well as I can.” </p><p>Quentin furrows his brow, “what the fuck, dude?”</p><p>“You a betting man?”</p><p>Quentin glares at him, but it isn’t intimidating at all. It reminds Wesley of an angry kitten. </p><p>“Betting on you to get the fuck outta here.”</p><p>Wesley laughs, “woah, chill out there frat boy. All that green sure suits your jealousy.”</p><p>“This dude’s an asshole,” Quentin scoffs, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.</p><p>There’s a wild look in Laurie’s eyes that shines through their drunken haze. </p><p>“Maybe you guys should just fuck each other instead of trying to fuck me,” Laurie says with a wicked smile on her face. </p><p>Wesley takes a moment to consider the statement and tries to keep his face as neutral as possible. He wasn’t going to be fazed by some stupid kiss. He took a glance at Quentin. The corners of his lips lifted. </p><p>A dark blush spreads across Quentin’s face. “K-kiss?” he stutters. “But I’m not gay…”</p><p>“And you think I am?”</p><p>Quentin couldn’t say anything.</p><p>“Bros before hoes, yeah?” Wesley said before leaning down and kissing Quentin.</p><p>* </p><p>Quentin makes a surprised noise at the back of his throat, leaning into Wesley’s touch, and grabs his varsity jacket to bring his body closer to his. It surprises him how much he’s enjoying this.</p><p>Wesley’s lips taste of sharp vodka—it burns his mouth. Even in Quentin’s drunken state, head hazy and spinning, he can still hear Laurie laughing in the background. At the forefront of his mind, he knows this isn’t something he should be doing in the middle of a house party swarming with people with the ability to ruin his life with a click of their thumb. </p><p>He knows, but he can’t seem to find it in him to care. </p><p>Quentin feels Wesley slide his hands over his chest. They stay there for a second before they pull at his hair. He doesn’t try to stop the moan that escapes him as Wesley’s fingernails scraped against his scalp. </p><p>“Quentin,” Wesley says, breathless yet still in charge. Quentin feels himself shiver against Wesley. </p><p>He takes a step back, away from the tense atmosphere. The random shouts and cheers in the background reminds him they’re both still in a public setting. </p><p>“Fuck, y’all really gonna fuck each other, huh?” Laurie giggles, covering her mouth with a hand. “Can I join?”</p><p>Wesley turns and looks at Laurie with a deadpan glare. “No.” He drags Quentin away to a quiet corner.</p><p>Quentin tugs at the sleeves of his sweater nervously. Should he? He takes a deep breath and takes a leap of faith. </p><p>“Should we…” he trails off, the liquid courage finally wearing off. </p><p>Wesley smiles that lazy grin that Quentin has grown to love in the short time they’ve met. “Netflix and Chill?” he winks inconspicuously. </p><p>
  <em>Oh, that man. </em>
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